


Hey look, it's a trial

by Cookeddogging



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-02-28 07:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18751876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookeddogging/pseuds/Cookeddogging
Summary: Based on a few trails, my own imagination, and the fact that there's absolutely no works on this pairing.





	1. It's the beginning of the trial, dammit

David coughed.

He'd been messing with this killer for the past 10 minutes, yet the lads on the other side of the map weren't progressing whatsoever, searching for loot and abusing pallets, while he practically felt his head spin from the clown's tonics. David didn't know much about medicine...hell, he didn't know much about anything. Despite that, it was clear that this stuff wasn't going to help him out at all in this pathetic excuse of a chase. Realizing that his stamina might about diminish, David made an effort to dash right past the clown, surprising him, and barely manged to survive a swing of the short ranged butterfly knife with the help of something most of the survivors liked to call careless behavior. He supposed it had been skill. He could sense both the frustration and interest radiating off the killer and cackled, believing that his team might actually have a chance at survival, and slowed into a corner, ready to vault the windowless window. He paused. He's left. He wasn't focused on. Hearing screeches in the distance, he prepared his med kit he'd saved from earlier. David could have sworn that he would've been the first to go, being the object of obsession, and searched the area around him for any sign of that colored fog. Nothing.

Unfazed by the dark aura signaling someone's expected demise, he purposely failed to fix the generator nearest to him in order to create a diversion from the explosion. David hoped to catch the clown's attention, feeling a sense of captivation. He realized that this was a killer he was thinking about, not some busty teen who was totally over fifteen, and cringed at his own actions. Luckily, he was interrupted from these thoughts after seeing a Meg spin in circles in front of a chest. He pointed at her, then at the gen, only to see her leave for whoever was on the hook instead. David continued to work on the generator and began to feel his body shake and heart pace into a steady rhythm. He acted oblivious towards the figure in front of him, hesitating to advance towards the man, and sighed as he was a quarter away from completing the machine. Nearly finished, he canceled his action and crouched in front of the figure for a few seconds, then returned to the generator as the figure decided to waltz towards him, refraining from doing anything that might not be family friendly. He was ultimately hoisted up by the literary slayer, hearing him chuckle as if he had accomplished something in this match. David had lost his will to live by now and refused to resist against the killer. He noted that the person who was hooked had already died, and cursed the Meg for refusing to be of any use whatsoever.

David was helpless. He was being carried on some clown's shoulder for the sole purpose of pleasing an entity while two other wankers were busy hiding and getting out of lockers, on god. A single gen had yet to be completed. The one David had been working on hadn't even been busted by this dude, so he figured it'd be best if he just, y'know: take advantage of these teammates instead if he wanted to survive this predicament. Finally approaching a hook, David chose to struggle, thinking that the killer would believe him to carry decisive strike, and that's exactly what happened. He fell to the ground and looked at the clown. The clown returned the favor and looked at David. He wasn't going to be picked up. Perhaps he was going to mauled right here and now. He didn't mind, really, as this entire situation was nothing more than ridiculous. However, the clown stood there for a moment, replenishing his bottles.

As David waited, his head began to feel woozy. He placed a hand on his face in an attempt to gain focus. Feelings of stress and sheer anger towards his "companions" overcame him. But that wasn't the only thing bothering him. It was the erection in his pants that bothered him, and that fucking clown noticed, his gaze intense on David as he continued to replenish his tonics. David heard a chuckle from the clown as he finally picked him back up, this time moving at a much faster pace, approaching the hook. They passed it. The two of them stumped to the entrance in this shack-like structure, and David was forced onto an worn out, roach infested couch. The clown placed his hands on David's shoulder. There was no way this was happening to him. He couldn't believe this. His heart beat so quickly, his mind in a panic at the idea that someone was going to see the two of them like this for sure. His own pride would be taken from this old, sick fuck, while everyone else was still running about in all their glory. The chances of that Meg coming to help him came to mind. She was a runner, and looked like she'd hold a good fight. Maybe not with this dude, but hey, she could buy some time for a cheap escape. There was also the fourth stranger. He had no idea who it'd be, but if he had to guess, It'd likely be an actual altruistic human being.

David came to his senses when he heard the sound of a door opening. The clown wheezed, getting his hands off of David, heading outside after he decided to open a bottle of his and leave it open, setting it on the floor next to David. He'd be right back, David presumed. He put a bunch of energy into getting up and off the couch, but his body just wouldn't let him. He began to shake unintentionally, flushing, and froze for a moment, afraid to move. He thought movement would amp up these sudden symptoms. He took at look at the bottle and noticed the colored gas flee out of the bottle. Irritated, he flung himself off the couch and inched towards it, sweating profusely without even putting much work in his movements. When he reached it, he grabbed it by the neck and chucked it out a windowless window, emanating the sound of glass shattering. He winced, suspecting it would cause the clown to come back sooner than he'd like. David hoisted himself up, exited the building, and paused to check for any sign of that clown. Not a thing in sight, but really there was. Suspicious, dark looking fog appeared a few meters away, and David caught a glimpse of his own savior: a way out. He actually cackled while he advanced towards his ticket out of this mess, and closed his eyes for a moment. His briefs were soiled at this point, irregardless of the fact that he hadn't paid any attention to himself. Fuck that. He lowered himself down the hatch, and a heavy mood sets in all of a sudden. David turns ever so slowly, and his face is instantly met with the broken bottle he had tossed just a moment ago. He feels his nose bleed and screamed in agony. The clown clutches onto David's shirt, tearing it apart with his hands, and lifts the man a second time, away from the hatch.


	2. This trial sucks now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bold of you to assume that David was going to act like a bottom in distress. But I mean it's true, so congrats.

The fact that a murderous clown had full intentions on harassing him didn't mean that he was going to be so passive aggressive about it. This clearly wasn't some hookup. He cursed at him with every word in the book, squirmed to the point where his hips would not lie, and even jabbed the guy's face with his shoulder. That'd do it for sure, but apparently it didn't, and the response was a lift to his feet followed by a threatening gesture to the neck with a knife. David honestly didn't believe this horny bitch was willing to cut him up like he was supposed to do, and he shouldn't have trusted himself upon his own safety because it was known from the very start of this trial that this man was fucked, and he was going to possibly be fucked. 

He felt a scintilla of pain. The cut is deeper than he anticipates. It's his own fault, really, the way his breaths were compact and quickened when he brought the knife closer, the anticipation, the anxiety. The Clown's hand slips while he's distracted watching David's mouth twitch over air. It's not terrible, just not what he'd planned. David turns pale watching the blood start, converting into the familiar dark red hue, only this time, it's on an uncommon part of his body. Soon enough they advance from the ground to whatever building the entity must have created for an entirely bogus purpose was finally complete, lamenting the idea of ending up on that couch once more. Not that David was necessarily terrified of the thought, he really just hated the anxiety of slowly being dragged toward torture he knew was inevitable. He figured it was best to just let this get over and done with. As he was lowered onto the couch, he looked up to witness him gazing down at his groin. He brought his gaze back up to meet his as he smiled gruesomely before advancing to where he'd been cut moments ago. And that's where the entire mood changed from menacing to lecherous. He closed his eyes, feeling The Clown's breath on his neck. He placed small, tender kisses across the nape of David's neck, up to behind his ear.

He called at him, "What...are you doing?"

No response, of course. He pulled him aside. Held him by his arms. He was strong. He held tight. He slowly lifted himself onto the couch with one knee, placing a hand on one of his hips, and hooked in his fingers. He moved to the side and reached down, allowing the tonics to lie on the floor. David let out a soft low groan. He moved his hand back up from his hip to his bust, and with his thumb slowly started circling, then flicking the nipple. David took a quick breath in as he played with his chest. Slowly he leaned closer to his chest, keeping eye contact with him as he bent down a bit. It felt like ... this killer, he...wanted the man. It was as if he wanted to merge his body with his. Like something about him had captured him beyond repair.

The Clown could see him squirm, damp beads forming on his body, clearly on the verge of panic. He loomed over him to place his hand on his thigh as he positioned him. He sat up for a moment so he can open the tonic to his benefit, then he waited for David to look at him. It took about a solid two minutes, but he finally forces himself to focus on the killer rather than nothing in particular. He then forced his legs up in the air, and wrapped an arm around his thighs pulling him close to him. He pulled the man's wrists higher with only one of his own hands as David looked up at him, waiting for what he was about to do to him, anticipating the shameful sensations that were soon to come.

He started kneading against him, rhythmically, slow and steady, his pace increasing gently at each motion. David's hips reciprocated his every move, as if on autopilot. The gentle and light thrusts and prodding turned into a fast and aggressive act. The Clown's crotch was hot, he felt himself twitching and stood still for a second, watching the other breathe erratically, noticing his own breath being in a complete disarray. David's now sweaty face blushed, several strands of hair sticking to his forehead. He felt increasingly cloistered in the shack, the air thick with the combined heat of their bodies and the scent of the Clown's arousal. This and the effect of the tonics from a while back caused his head to spin once more.

The Clown grabbed his hair at the front of his head, trying to force the smaller man's body down. To take in more. He started wriggling in pleasure, breathing in erratic puffs. He could feel him pulse around him as he breathed out. The Clown's touch is hot in every way, his fingertips and his entire body really. It emits warmth David isn't sure how he's supposed to process. He looked up at him with absolute fear in his eyes. He let the moment slow, let him gain control of himself. Then without warning, he forced himself back into him. Hard. The audible suck of air he took enveloped them. Panting and out of breath, he replied, "I can't. I can't do this", He breathed deeply and pleaded. This wasn't entirely true. This wasn't entirely false either. Before David executed the one thing he could logically do, that being completely still, even if he was unintentionally enjoying this, his vision began to turn dark, and after five seconds he was out, cold and motionless.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Wattpad but I forget passwords a lot. I'm willing to write most pairings so anyone may leave suggestions.


End file.
